


good as gold

by bluebot



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Childhood Friends, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Party, so much making out oh my god this is just making out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 11:12:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18030647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebot/pseuds/bluebot
Summary: "Mark hated crop tops.He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about massive, bass booming apartment parties either. Yet he was standing at the periphery of one such party, wearing a crop top, feeling the periodic gusts of breeze from the feeble air conditioner cross the bare strip of skin between the hem of his shirt and the top of his jeans, hating every sensation."or, Mark wears a crop top and runs into an old friend. Some things never change, but others shift drastically.





	good as gold

**Author's Note:**

> there's ear and nipple shenanigans in here... not sure how to warn for that but just read on and find out what i mean....
> 
> also some background info: in korea, middle school apparently runs from ages 12 to 15 and the boys are 18/19ish here, so it's been roughly 4 years since they last met!

Mark hated crop tops.

He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about massive, bass booming apartment parties either. Yet he was standing at the periphery of one such party, wearing a crop top, feeling the periodic gusts of breeze from the feeble air conditioner cross the bare strip of skin between the hem of his shirt and the top of his jeans, hating every sensation.

Mark hunched further in himself. He tucked into his drink, taking a large gulp. He hoped that the liquor would warm him throughout, including the bare skin that the crop top had left exposed. He cursed Ten mentally for practically forcing him into the shirt. He’d put his foot down once Mark had showed up at his place in the same clothes he’d thrown on for his 8 AM that morning, not allowing Mark to share his Uber ride until Mark promised to change into something more fitting for a party (Ten’s words, not Mark’s).

Mark was calculating the probable fare it would take if he just ordered his own car right then and skipped out on the rest of the party. It was surge hour, he thought, so he’d have to factor that in. Mark winced, lowering his drink. He’d have to account for how upset Ten would be if he left the party at eleven, not even waiting until the party got its first noise complaint.

Mark sighed. He leaned back until the back of his skull bumped up against the wall. He let his eyes fall closed, let the visible sensations fade until he was left with just sound, feeling, and scent.

It was still nearly overwhelming, the pounding of the bass of the shitty hip hop song Jaehyun had queued up, the talking, the shouting, the hollering as someone fucked up in the beer pong game going on in the middle of the living room. People brushed by Mark, perfumes and colognes intermingling with the stale scent of sweat, the saccharine scent of cheap punch.

One sound cut through the cloud.

“Mark?” came a distantly familiar voice, clear as a bell. It brought with it the freshly sweet scent of honey, the memory of summers spent lounging around poolsides.

“Mark Lee, is that you?”

The moment he placed the voice, Mark’s eyes snapped open. His lungs felt constricted, devoid of air.

Donghyuck was standing in front of him. Lee Donghyuck, from Seoul Middle School.

He looked the same as ever, with his dark eyes, sweeping lashes. He looked like a completely new person. His hair looked artfully tousled instead of completely in disarray, and there were specks of golden glitter shining on his cheeks, making him glow even more than he always seemed to in Mark’s memories.

Mark shook his head in an attempt to shake himself from the spell that the mere sight of Donghyuck had managed to put him under.

“Holy shit. It is,” Donghyuck’s lips were moving again.

They curled up as he spoke, forming an impression of a smile. His gaze was falling, low. Mark watched Donghyuck eye him, from Mark’s scuffed sneakers up, up. Mark felt heat flood his cheeks, blazing, as Donghyuck’s gaze passed over his stomach. Mark wondered if he imagined the way Donghyuck’s gaze lingered, just for a split second.

“I barely recognized you,” Donghyuck said. His voice had lowered, forcing Mark to move in closer to catch his words.

“Well. It’s been awhile,” Mark said, regretting it almost immediately. _Stupid,_ he thought. _Stupid thing to say, Mark._

Donghyuck’s lips parted into a wide grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. He let out a laugh, high and melodic, the same as always. Mark felt a curious sensation stir in his stomach. Like maybe he’d drunk too much but – no, not unpleasant. Mark closed his eyes briefly, willing it to be anything but butterflies. He was nineteen now. He didn’t want to believe he could still feel butterflies.

“Yeah. Four years?”

Mark nodded, before cracking his eyes open. His palm felt clammy around the plastic cup of punch in his hands. Four years, and his body was still reacting the same way it had back in middle school, when Mark was first figuring out that he might have liked boys, that he might have even liked one of his best friends.

“Your hair – ” Mark started, before his brain caught up with him.

His mouth snapped shut, but Donghyuck’s hand started to rise to his hair. His smile was starting to slide off from his face and Mark could see his mistake from a mile out. He cleared his throat.

“It looks really good,” he finished, weak.

Donghyuck’s smile returned and Mark could breathe easy again, so maybe it was worth looking like an idiot.

“Yeah. Sometime in high school, I discovered this brilliant thing called brushing.”

Donghyuck swayed forward, and for one crazy moment, Mark thought he might – but he didn’t. Donghyuck spun and leaned up against the same wall as Mark. He reached out with the hand that wasn’t holding a cup. Nose wrinkling, he touched Mark’s hair, twisting a few strands around his finger.

“Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Asshole,” Mark said, without venom.

“Dumbass,” Donghyuck returned, without hesitation.

For a moment, neither of them said a thing. Their gazes didn’t stray from each other. With Donghyuck’s hand still twisted in Mark’s hair, something seemed to crackle in the air. A sensation not unlike the scent of ozone in a summer thunderstorm gave Mark a heady feeling as he grinned at Donghyuck and Donghyuck grinned back, as they snapped back into their old friendship as easy as anything.

It’d be just as easy to ruin it, a small part of Mark’s brain chimed in. It’d be just as easy to list forward, to bracket his arms around Donghyuck and kiss him senseless. Mark begged that part of his brain to shut up.  

Instead, Mark allowed himself to turn completely towards Donghyuck, not caring if it made his interest all the more obvious. He opened his mouth to ask the standard: Donghyuck’s major, what he was studying.

Then he closed his mouth, as he watched Donghyuck’s eyes fall once more, landing back in the same place. Mark’s stomach, exposed. Mark froze. As much as he wanted to curl in on himself, to hide his stomach, he didn’t. He didn’t want Donghyuck to know that he’d been caught staring, again.

Even more, Mark was thinking. The gears in his mind were turning, taking in the spark between them, Donghyuck’s easy smile, Donghyuck’s gaze that kept straying back down.

Mark might have been a dumbass, but he wasn’t an idiot.

There was something there, something undeniable as Donghyuck’s eyes flicked back up, wide and worried, as though he knew he’d been staring for too long.

“Huh,” Mark said aloud, because he might not have been an idiot, but he was still a dumbass. And the potential of Donghyuck Lee reciprocating his feelings, at least a little, maybe in just a purely physical way, was something to ‘huh’ about.

“What?”

Donghyuck looked up at Mark from under his lashes. He raised his cup to his lips. Mark’s mouth suddenly went dry, as he watched Donghyuck’s Adam’s Apple bob in his throat as he swallowed a sip of his drink. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“Just… wow.”

Mark could blame his speechlessness on the alcohol, but he wasn’t drunk, not even a little. The truth was that he knew exactly the culprit: none other than Donghyuck.

Mark grinned, lopsided. It had always been so hard to speak around Donghyuck. That hadn’t changed, even if it seemed that some other things might have. Donghyuck liked him. Maybe. Donghyuck definitely liked his body, at least.

“Today’s _awesome_ ,” Mark mused, raising his drink, “I seriously thought that this – ” Mark gestured around the party with his cup, just barely avoiding hitting some bystanders with it, and not caring in the slightest, “ – was gonna suck. It’s really turned around, though.”

Donghyuck raised his brow at Mark.

There was a glint in his eye, a sharp shine as he asked, “Really? What changed your mind?”

Mark knew what he wanted him to say. He knew the answer Donghyuck was hoping for, and he was helpless but to give it.

“Running into you,” Mark felt that fluttery feeling in his stomach again as Donghyuck smiled, small and pleased, like a secret.

“How’ve you been, Hyuck? Tell me about the past four years.”

“How much time do you have?” Donghyuck’s smile stayed small and secret.

Mark felt emboldened, remembering Donghyuck’s lingering gaze. Mark grinned at him, easy. He straightened his back, set his shoulders. He felt even more confident when Donghyuck reacted, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth.

“For you? As much time as you’re willing to give me.”

 

They talked, and talked, moving around the party as a unit, never staying in one place or on one topic too long.

Donghyuck told Mark how his family was doing, updates on his sister’s escapades and her search for a date as they refilled their cups with punch. Mark filled Donghyuck in on the crashing and burning of his hip hop star dreams as they skirted they edge of the makeshift dancefloor (“Bummer. I still think you really had something special.” “I dunno, Hyuck. I can’t really see myself on stage anymore, you know?” “...I could.”).

They delved into heavier topics. Donghyuck told Mark of finally coming out to his parents, as he grabbed a handful of pretzels from the skimpy offering of snacks laid out on a table. Mark told Donghyuck how he hadn’t come out, not yet, as they migrated away from the thick of the party, to the edges. Mark led the way, forging a path through gyrating bodies as Donghyuck held onto the back of his shirt, the hem of his crop top.

As they walked, a giggle escaped from Donghyuck’s lips. Mark was helpless but to look back at him, grinning, feeling apologetic for leading him through the mess of people. He had a plan, though. He had a goal in mind: finding a place where they could finally get some peace and quiet. Somewhere they could talk and he could actually hear Donghyuck, where he wouldn’t miss a thing, not a word or a straying, furtive glance.

Mark finally pushed out of the crowd, at the threshold of his destination: the door that led out onto the apartment’s balcony. There was a fifty-fifty chance there was already someone out there, Mark figured. He shot another glance back at Donghyuck as he reached forward for the door. He’d figure out a way to kick them out if there was, he resolved.

He didn’t have to, though. The balcony was empty, save for a table turned over on it’s side, and a couple lawn chairs clustered in the opposite corner. It wasn’t the most lavishly decorated place, or the most comfortable. But it was quiet, and it was separated from the loud voices and the curious, peering eyes of the partygoers.

Mark pulled up to an abrupt stop and Donghyuck must have stumbled, colliding against his back as the door clicked shut behind him. Donghyuck’s hands reached out, holding onto the sides of Mark’s waist as he stabilized himself.

Mark winced – it was because of him that Donghyuck had lost his balance. He twisted, turned around to look at Donghyuck over his shoulder. He blinked upon seeing Donghyuck’s face right there, inches from his.

“Are you okay?” Mark asked, trying and failing to hold Donghyuck’s eye, as Donghyuck ducked his head.

“‘M fine. That was just… a little embarrassing.”

Donghyuck’s fingers tightened on Mark’s waist. His hands were warm, in contrast to the weather outside. It was still on the cusp of spring, when the nights were just a touch too cold. His hands slid off of Mark, though, before a moment had passed. Mark turned, hearing Donghyuck’s breath catch.

There was a pause, Mark wondering if he should assure Donghyuck that, if anyone should have been embarrassed, it should have been him. Then Donghyuck straightened, lifting his head. A smile had risen back to his face. Upon seeing it, Mark’s stomach butterflies took flight again, fluttering against his ribcage.

“Hey,” he said, dumb.

He couldn’t help it, being struck dumb. Not with the way Donghyuck’s smile lit up his face, not with the way the glitter pressed onto his cheeks gleamed like freckles of molten gold, reflecting the light from the yellow streetlights below them.

“Hey,” Donghyuck repeated, warm, “So… we’re alone.”

Mark’s heart began to beat faster, hearing those words from Donghyuck’s lips. He nodded, careful, trying not to let his thoughts get ahead of him.

“Yeah,” Mark found himself trailing after Donghyuck this time, as Donghyuck backed himself up against the balcony railing, “We could talk about anything now, I guess.”

Donghyuck laughed, abrupt, as though shocked into it.

“Sure, we could do that,” he said it like he’d had something else on his mind.

It took Mark a moment but, once he made a leap and realized what else Donghyuck could have been talking about, he felt like kicking himself. Mark let out a sigh. It was too late to take back what he’d said, too late to make a move. He’d have to wait again, who knows how long, for another chance.

Donghyuck reached out, bridging the distance between them, catching the hem of Mark’s top. Mark was close enough to him that he could see his lashes, defined and dark, as he looked down and started the play with the hem of Mark’s shirt. He rubbed the fabric between his thumb and forefinger without haste, almost distracted.

Mark couldn’t think of anything but Donghyuck’s hand in that moment. The backs of Donghyuck’s knuckles brushed against his stomach, only just, before Donghyuck readjusted his hand and the glancing contact was lost.

“How’d that crush on Kim Jungwoo ever work out?” Donghyuck’s voice was barely above a whisper.

His words were crystal clear, though, unslurred, and Mark had to wonder if he was just as sober as Mark, if that’s all that was holding them back from acting on what they both wanted.

“It didn’t,” Mark replied.

Jungwoo had been a passing thing, something to distract himself from the awful reality of being in love – or, at least, a fourteen year old’s version of love – with his best friend.

“Straight?” Donghyuck hummed in commiseration. He was still playing with Mark’s shirt.

Mark had to laugh.

“Nah. He likes men, he just didn’t like me.”

Donghyuck froze. His eyes flicked up. His brows drew together, a line between them, and Mark was left wondering what he’d said to cause that.

“I – ” Mark had barely begun, when Donghyuck cut in.

“ – That’s stupid,” Donghyuck was frowning.

“What?” Mark asked, confused.

“That’s stupid. You’re everyone’s type. He’s an idiot for not seeing that.”

Mark blinked. Donghyuck’s indignation on his behalf – he was used to that. Donghyuck had always been the one to stick up for him. He’d always told the other guys to back off when they got too rude with Mark. He’d do all that, then turn right around and smirk at Mark and call him a dumbass. It was them. It was what they did.

But ‘everyone’s type’ had Mark thinking, just as Donghyuck’s fingers twisted in his shirt had him thinking. Mark wondered if Donghyuck really meant everyone – or just himself. Mark blinked. An idea occurred to him. His heart picked up its pace once more, as he opened his mouth.

“I didn’t care – that he didn’t like me, I mean. He wasn’t ever really… it wasn’t real. I liked someone else more,” Mark took a deep breath, “Actually, it’s kinda funny. It’s been so long, but… I still like them.”

“You do?” Donghyuck said, his entire demeanor shifting in an instant. His eyes went wide, guileless, “Who?”

It was a bit over the top, in Mark’s view. He grinned, though. Donghyuck wouldn’t be Donghyuck if he wasn’t a bit over the top at times. He really hadn’t changed, not in any ways that would matter.

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” Mark asked, in disbelief.

Donghyuck blinked his eyes, slow, owlish.

“Say what?” he asked.

And maybe Mark wasn’t as in control as he thought. Maybe he hadn’t been, from the start. Donghyuck may have had him right where he wanted him, but Mark wasn’t mad about it. He raised his hand and pushed it through his hair.

“Asshole,” he said, though he wanted to call Donghyuck brilliant.

He shook his head before reaching out, moving in. He brushed his thumb along Donghyuck’s jaw, and Donghyuck’s lips parted.

“That’s not how you confess to someone,” Donghyuck was saying, his voice distant, his words weak.

“Oh yeah?”

Mark angled closer.

“Show me how it’s done, then,” he provoked him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to say no to a challenge like that.

“Dumbass,” Donghyuck growled, before surging forward, closing the gap between them.

When Donghyuck kissed Mark, Mark didn’t feel explosions. He didn’t feel fireworks. He felt his heart pounding against his ribcage like it wanted to leap out of his chest. He felt heady, drunk on nothing but the chilled nighttime air and the taste of Donghyuck’s lips. Sweet like the party’s punch, but different, deeper.

Mark pressed in closer, parting his lips. Donghyuck’s were plush against his own, soft, in contrast to the bruising way he kissed Mark. Eager, hungry, with a tinge of desperation, as though this was the culmination of years of yearning for him too.

Donghyuck sighed into Mark’s mouth, and Mark’s heart skipped a beat. He pulled back, dragging in air, not daring to open his eyes, not yet. He was afraid he was dreaming. And opening his eyes meant waking and surfacing from the dream.

“Don’t _stop_ ,” Donghyuck’s sigh came again, a second time. With it, came Donghyuck’s hand, threading through the hair at the back of Mark’s head, pulling him back in. Mark let himself be guided back.

Their lips met once more, Donghyuck went slower the second time around, tonguing the seam of Mark’s lips, coaxing his mouth open. Donghyuck guided Mark closer, closer, licking into his mouth. Mark was nearly bending over. He felt Donghyuck’s other hand, warm and dry and soft, creeping up the back of his top and was distracted momentarily.

Then, he realized how he was standing, his position, and how Donghyuck must have been leaning back against the balcony railing. Mark’s eyes flew open and he drew back, breathless, his hands coming up to Donghyuck’s back. Donghyuck whined, trying to get Mark to keep kissing him. But Mark’s heart was racing for another reason, not just for the thrill of kissing Donghyuck.

“Careful,” he intoned, pulling Donghyuck flush to him, away from the railing, “It’d suck if you fell.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck cracked his eyes open. His face was so, so close. His lips widened, growing into a smile. He gazed at Mark with heavy lidded eyes, “Ha.”

Mark smiled back, uncertain, unsure what the joke was. His concern was abating, now that Donghyuck was away from immediate danger. His gaze fell from Donghyuck’s eyes to his lips. He didn’t know if he was imagining it, or if they were already flushed, even more rosy than usual from the rush of blood from their bruising kiss.

Donghyuck’s hand on Mark’s back started to move, tracing slow, gradual circles. His thumbnail scratched up against Mark’s skin. The sensation wasn’t unpleasant, but it caused Mark to shiver all the same. He forced his eyes up and cleared his throat before speaking.

“Should we talk about this?”

Donghyuck cocked his head. His light touch on Mark’s back shifted. His hand stilled and grew insistent, more of a pressure, tugging Mark back to him.

“Later,” he murmured. Mark’s eyes fell back down to his lips, to their shape – pursed into a pout.

He was helpless.

“Later’s good too.”

“Good,” Donghyuck spoke, warm and pleased, and Mark could feel the word on his lips. He let his eyes fall shut and a moment later, Donghyuck’s lips were pressed back to his.

As they kissed, Mark was distantly aware of Donghyuck’s hand moving, roving over his skin. It inched around, from his back to his front. Mark didn’t mind, though. He didn’t care. Not as Donghyuck sucked his lip into his mouth, toying with it between his teeth. Mark didn’t know if he was using enough force to draw blood, but just the fact that he didn’t know thrilled him, sent tingles down his spine.

But then Donghyuck’s hand had clasped around his ribcage, and Donghyuck drew his thumb ever so lightly across Mark’s nipple. The contact was minimal, so brief, but Mark still froze. He drew back gasping, as if he’d been shocked. Donghyuck’s thumb traced the same path, with added pressure, playing with Mark’s nipple.

Mark had to bite his lip to hold back a moan. He was so sensitive, on tenterhooks – even that small touch was enough to make his legs weak.

“How does that feel?”

Donghyuck angled in closer, his other hand sliding down from Mark’s head, holding him in place. His index finger had joined his thumb, he was rolling the bud of Mark’s nipple in between them and Mark couldn’t hold back anymore. He let out a groan, low. His entire body felt melted, overwarm.

He dropped his head forward onto Donghyuck’s shoulder. He nodded, as he turned his head, breathing in Donghyuck’s scent, sweet like honey, warm like a summer’s day.

“Words, Mark,” Donghyuck’s murmur was loud, spoken right next to Mark’s ear, “Use your words. Does it feel good?”

“Yeah…” Mark exhaled, uneven. He swallowed, shook his head, “What if someone sees us?”

Donghyuck hummed, distracted. Mark felt the chilled air more keenly, as his top was pushed up. Donghyuck drew back, only to press back in, pressing his lips to Mark’s chest.

“Hyuck, someone c-could walk out from the party,” Mark tried to remember why he cared, as Donghyuck trailed kisses lower.

“If they do, we’ll tell them to fuck off and find another place to get high,” Donghyuck muttered, before laying a lasting kiss right above Mark’s nipple.

Donghyuck dragged his teeth over the oversensitive spot and Mark exhaled, high – an embarrassing, breathy sound.

“Hyuck…” someone whined. Him, Mark realized, after a moment.

Donghyuck looked up at Mark, catching his eye from under dark lashes. They locked eyes for only a moment, with Mark having to bite his lip to hold back any other embarrassing sounds that might escape him. Then Donghyuck was mercifully, devastatingly drawing back. He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth.

“‘Kay, fine, we can do it your way, play it safe,” Donghyuck side stepped Mark, drew around him, coming up behind him. Mark’s easy breathing was short lived. He found it difficult to breathe once more as Donghyuck pressed up flush behind him, his front against Mark’s back.

“I wouldn’t like you if you weren’t lame, anyways,” Donghyuck’s voice was light and coy, coming from right next to Mark’s ear.

“Thanks, I think...” Mark tried, his own voice utterly weak. He wondered if Donghyuck could feel his body trembling.

“You’re welcome,” Donghyuck said, before sucking Mark’s earlobe into his mouth.

“A-ah,” Mark gasped, “That’s playing it safe?”

Donghyuck didn’t deign to answer him, dragging his teeth along the crest of Mark’s ear. Mark’s eyelids fluttered shut, an involuntary reaction. He didn’t understand why everything Donghyuck did felt so good, why everything made him feel closer and closer to melting.

Donghyuck’s hands were skating over the surface of his skin, under his shirt. Donghyuck’s breath was hitting hot and damp on the side of his neck, and Donghyuck’s tongue was tracing the shell of Mark’s ear. Mark had to reach out and grasp onto the balcony railing to hold himself up.

“Oh my God,” Donghyuck’s tone was cocky, inflated, “I’ve barely even done anything to you yet and you’re like this?”

Like what…? _Undone,_ Mark’s brain filled in for him. He angled his head, allowing Donghyuck easier access. Mark’s cracked open his eyes, his ears full of the sound of his own panting, heaving breaths.

His gaze fell upon the street laid out below the balcony, ten floors down. Mark’s breath hitched. He scanned the street, seeing no one. But he couldn’t relax, not even if he’d be able to get used to what Donghyuck was doing to him – how he was now kissing the side of his neck.

It wasn’t even that late. So many students were out and about at this time on a weekend night. Mark wondered if anyone had seen them, if anyone had passed by. All it would take was one glance up to see – Mark, getting thoroughly unravelled, his former best friend’s hands rucking up his crop top.

Then Donghyuck bit down on Mark’s neck and Mark’s eyes fluttered closed. He stopped wondering. Who gave a shit about students seeing them? Who gave a shit about partygoers maybe getting a glimpse of Donghyuck sucking hickeys onto his neck? Mark sure as hell didn’t.

 

By the time they walked back into the apartment, Mark had finally recovered enough control over his legs to be able to walk, but only just.

They’d been kissing, slow and lazy finally, after so much time had passed. Donghyuck had abruptly pulled back from him and sighed, before saying,

“Alright, we can talk now.”

Mark had been helpless but to assent.

The party had nearly died in the time they’d spent making out on the balcony. There were only a few stragglers left, all engaged in conversation, probably with someone they meant to go home with that night. The music was slower, still heavy, but the notes were smooth and thick and dripped by like honey.

Though Mark was the one with weak knees and a shaky, uneven breath, he somehow ended up supporting Donghyuck as they picked their way over discarded cups.

Donghyuck had tucked himself into Mark’s side. He’d snaked his arm around Mark’s waist, covering the stripe of skin Mark’s crop top had left exposed, warming him. His thumb tapped against Mark’s side, right above Mark’s hip bone. Mark felt it keenly, everytime. Every distracted touch from Donghyuck sent him trying not to shiver.

“Why didn’t we keep in touch?” Donghyuck asked, out of nowhere.

Mark had to stop walking. He glanced down at Donghyuck, only to find him already looking up at Mark. His eyes were wide, his expression unreadable.

“We were best friends…” Donghyuck started, before trailing off.

Mark felt a lump rise in his throat. They had been. They’d spent every day together, from the first time they’d met in middle school commencement, up until their graduation. And then it’d just – stopped. Abrupt.

They knew they were going to different high schools – Donghyuck to a private school, Mark to his local public school. It wouldn’t have been too hard to keep in touch, though. It would’ve been easy to seek Donghyuck out, to add him on Facebook, to check out his Instagram.

Mark had to look away from Donghyuck. His eyes flitted around the room, around the couples scattered across lumpy, misshapen couches, and in dark corners.

It would’ve been easy to check up on Donghyuck, and to see that he was already moving on, finding friends that weren’t Mark. Because that was what Donghyuck did. He drew people in, some kind of magnetism that Mark could never dream of denying. Donghyuck would draw in someone more interesting than Mark, and Mark would be left pining after a boy who didn’t even see him as his best friend anymore.

But Mark hadn’t been right about the inevitability of that occurring, maybe. Maybe Mark had been stupid. It wasn’t the first time. Maybe Donghyuck wouldn’t have left him behind, maybe that wasn’t as much of a foregone conclusion as he’d imagined.

“We fucked up, I guess,” was all Mark could say.

He glanced back at Donghyuck. His hair wasn’t tamed anymore. It was as wild as ever, strands out of place and falling over his brow. They had been dislodged by Mark’s hands as Donghyuck had crowded Mark up against the balcony and Mark had felt he was holding on for dear life.

“Give me your number,” Mark blurted out.

Donghyuck picked his head off of Mark’s shoulder, looked at him with that glinting gaze, eyes shining above his freckles, glowing golden.

“We’ll do it right this time – I’ll get it right,” Mark promised, determined. He reached back, drew out his phone from his jeans pocket, “We can go for food or something… do you still love that soup place? We can go there this week, catch up for real.”

Donghyuck was silent for a moment. The smile had returned, the one Mark couldn’t get enough of, the one that sent his stomach fluttering and made his lips tingle. He desired nothing more than to close the gap between them and capture Donghyuck’s lips once more. It was the small smile, the secret one, just for Mark.

“Maybe I shouldn’t call you a dumbass anymore. You’ve been full of good ideas tonight,” Donghyuck said, his words curling, warm. He tapped out his number into Mark’s phone, and Mark had to hold his breath, the fear that he was dreaming persistent in his mind.

“Oh yeah?” Mark prompted, still in disbelief of the situation he’d found himself in.

“This,” Donghyuck waved Mark’s phone through the air, before handing it back to Mark. He gestured down at himself, as his smile grew, one corner lifting higher than the other, “Me,” Donghyuck pointed at Mark’s top, “That one. That’s one decision that _I_ couldn’t even find a fault with. Look at you. Holy shit – who knew you had abs?”

“Oh,” Mark felt heat flood his cheeks.

As pleased as he was with Donghyuck’s attention, his compliments, he couldn’t help the feeling of guilt that pricked him. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he told Donghyuck the truth, though. That he’d been forced to wear it. That, if he had his way, he’d be bundled up in an oversized hoodie. But he couldn’t _lie,_ not to Donghyuck.

“This is a friend’s. It’s not mine. He made me wear it...”

Donghyuck burst out into a sudden fit of laughter. Mark watched, confused, bemused, as Donghyuck curled over, holding his stomach.

“Why’re you laughing?” Mark complained, “I don’t get it.”

Donghyuck straightened slightly, one arm still wrapped around his torso. He pawed at the corners of his eyes, swiping them dry. He was radiant in that moment, in every moment. The party stragglers fell away. It was just Donghyuck in front of Mark, backlit by the golden fairy lights that had been strung up along the wall behind him.

“Mark Lee’s asking me out, finally – it only took you seven years – ”

“Hey…” Mark interjected, not sure if he was happy with where this was going.

“ – you’re asking me out, and you’re wearing a fucking _crop top._ In all the ways I’d imagined it… I never would have guessed it’d go like this.”

“You imagined it?” Mark blinked.

Donghyuck’s grin was face splitting, his eyes crescents above it, “Obviously. Dumbass.”

“Thought you were gonna stop calling me that,” Mark couldn’t scowl, though. He reached forward, capturing Donghyuck’s hand. Their fingers intertwined, sliding in place together like they were meant to be.

“I changed my mind,” Donghyuck wrinkled his nose at Mark.

Mark snorted in disbelief. When he thought on it a second longer, though, he realized he should’ve seen this coming. He shook his head, and tugged Donghyuck forward, towards him. He needed to give him a lasting kiss, one he’d remember until the next time they met, hopefully not too far off.

“Asshole. Come here and kiss me goodbye.”

Donghyuck’s laugh rang out in Mark’s ears, even after he’d cut it short with his lips.

 

Later in the night, as Mark decided against calling himself a car in favor of walking, he would go through his phone. After shooting a text off to Ten, telling him not to worry about Mark, that he could carry on with his plans for the night (with whoever they might involve), he’d allow himself to scroll back to Donghyuck’s name.

It was there, in his contacts. Donghyuck Lee, with a heart after it. The heart was yellow. Mark had to smile. Without even bothering to wait, he clicked on the contact name, and started to compose a text. He told Donghyuck that he’d had a great time that night, and asked him when he was free to meet up once more.

Then Mark clicked his phone off and slid it into his pocket. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, not to keep out the chill, but to keep the butterflies within from escaping.


End file.
